


One night isn't enough to learn you by heart

by karasunotsubasa



Series: KageHina Week December 2014 [6]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Drinking, Hinaguchi friendship, M/M, Mentions of Sex, One Night Stands, fan hinata, national team star kageyama, rated m for the continuous mentions of frick fracks, the bastard also knows french bc I thought it'd be funny, wingman tsukki for kicks and giggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 03:46:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2758388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunotsubasa/pseuds/karasunotsubasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>National Japanese team's star setter Kageyama Tobio isn't a man who would carelessly sleep around. Until one night he meets a very attractive stranger in a club, in a far land also known as France, and all hell breaks loose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One night isn't enough to learn you by heart

**Author's Note:**

> KageHina Week December 2014  
> day 6  
> prompt: hermes - letters

Kageyama was bored. So bored he wanted nothing more than to return back to his room in the hotel and sleep. But since it was their last night in France, and the whole team insisted, he supposed he should spend some time socializing. Though it wasn't his favourite type of amusement, they jointly - apparently he was excluded from the vote - decided to go to the nearest club and get wasted silly, and Kageyama, sighing like a martyr, tagged along. His gloomy mood disappeared when a glass of champagne was thrust in his hand, but after another two - or six, he really lost count somewhere after that - it was back in full force, and he could only gaze lazily at the people around, judging, glaring, looking for something, anything, to relieve the terrible boredom that he was not able to drown with alcohol.

And then he found it.

At the bar, not too far away from his table, were two men. In the dim light he could make out their different hair colours and somehow, through the blasting music, he sometimes heard the sounds of their laughter. One of them was dressed in plain jeans and a light green cardigan, which actually suited him a lot - it was the taller one, with brown hair; the other one - the one Kageyama's eyes kept going back to - was the red-head whose laughter was the reason he looked their way the first time and who was wearing the tightest pair of jeans Kageyama has ever seen. They clung to his calves, thighs, _ass_ , so close to skin people would say it left nothing to imagination, but for Kageyama this was exactly when his imagination started to work. And combined with alcohol, it skipped all his barriers in one go, setting the grounds for far more… _important_ things.

He imagined pealing the jeans off of the red-head, slowly, centimetre by centimetre, in a teasing show of skin. He could almost feel what it would be like to grope that ass through the material. He believed something so tight would leave marks on the flesh, right where the seams were, and then his mind flipped a switch and Kageyama drowned in pictures of himself kissing and licking the hollow dents in the thighs of the stranger, as the muscles underneath him twitched and quivered with every touch on the heated skin.

Kageyama wasn't one for casual flings like this, but then and there, in that small club in France, drunk on both, alcohol and his imagination - he would not mind a taste of adventure.

His fingers tightened briefly on his glass, eyes flicking back to the red-head who was now whispering something into his companion's ear.

"Which one?"

Kageyama twitched in surprise at the sudden voice near his ear and turned to the side, spotting Tsukishima who was casually leaning over the back of his chair, eyes glued to the bar.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he feigned ignorance and took another gulp of his drink.

"Oh come on, Kageyama," the annoying smirk was back on the blond's face and Kageyama had to fight the urge to smash his glass on it. "I'll be your wingman, now tell me: which one?"

"What makes you think I need a wingman?" Kageyama snorted, but at Tsukishima's pointed look he gave in and changed his front. "And even if I did, what makes you think I'd pick you of all people?"

His teammate only swirled his drink around the crystal glass, eyes beneath the spectacles gleaming with the reflection of the bar lights. When their gazes met again, there was seriousness in them, something that rarely blinked through the mocking mask the man perfected over the years.

"If you're after the brown-haired one, you should give it up now," Tsukishima said, drowning the rest of his scotch. "I want him."

Grimaced in distaste, Kageyama watched him stand up. "I didn't need to know your sexual preferences."

Tsukishima smirked at him, his superior attitude back to normal, and stepped around the table. He looked back over his shoulder at the still sitting Kageyama, an eyebrow raised in question.

"You coming?"

Kageyama hesitated for a second, and then thought with a shrug, 'What the hell, I might as well' and quickly emptying his own glass, fell into step with Tsukishima. The liquor pleasantly burned his throat, like a good hoarse scream after another won match, giving him additional boost of courage. They slipped between dancing people, some too drunk to move properly, but still swirling crazily on the dance floor, and made their way to the two by the bar.

Tsukishima went into action first, and Kageyama stepped to the side, watching.

And then his teammate smirked - in that obnoxious way that made Kageyama tremble with anger every single time - then leaned over the brown-haired man, his hand resting on the bar, almost crowding his pray, and said something in French - how did that bastard even know French? - after which he simply extended his hand and waited.

Both men at the bar, and Kageyama as well, blinked in confused unison, until Tsukishima smirked again, and repeated his question in English.

"Would you do me the honour of dancing a quickie with me?"

The man Tsukishima offered the hand to _giggled_ \- Kageyama couldn't believe his ears - and extended his own.

"Indeed, I should like to."

He slipped off the stool, Tsukishima's hand still holding his and they went into the crowd, disappearing somewhere in a blink of an eye. Kageyama stood rooted in place, too shocked to move. That was it? So that bastard just took the guy he wanted and left? So much for being his wingman…

"Now _that_ was smooth," the red-head said, his eyes following after the pair for a while, and then turned to Kageyama. He smiled, and there was something good-natured in the tilt of his lips, but to Kageyama it looked strangely devilish and enticing."It seems like he ditched you."

"I'm not going to cry over that, believe me," Kageyama shrugged and slipped into the free space beside the other. "I've been watching you, you know," he eyed the man, who sipped his drink, and noticed how his lips quirked again at the edges.

"Oh, I do know," there was a brief, amused chuckle, and skin around the eyes - only now Kageyama was close enough to see it - the colour of amber crinkled lightly. "I was wondering when you'll get the guts to come to talk to me."

The man was perfectly aware of his attractiveness, Kageyama noticed, but he couldn't find it in himself to hate him for it. Instead, if it was even possible, he was more aware of how that allure worked itself deep under his skin, and now crept its way towards his groin like deadly poison.

"It wasn't a matter of guts," he said, looking away from the tantalizing smile. A second more and he'd have lost the battle.

"Morals, then," the red-head nodded, as if it explained everything, and for a brief moment Kageyama felt the anger lick at his insides. He held it in though, as the other continued. "I thought this might be the case with such a diligent setter like you."

"Oh?" Kageyama felt the wind blow in his sails. "Are you a fan then?"

The other hummed noncommittally, his pointing finger circling the edge of the glass. "You might say that. After all, I came to France just to watch your match."

"And a dedicated fan at that," Kageyama couldn't help a small smile. Finally luck was on his side. He took a seat on the stool next to the man and ordered himself a drink, before asking his next question, slightly intrigued by the person next to him. "Where did you come from, then?"

A light chuckle shook the man's shoulders. "Isn't that rather obvious by now?" he asked in turn, and then apparently seeing the bewildered look in Kageyama's eyes, smiled again. "Japan."

Up till now they talked in English, since Kageyama didn't know a word in French, and he supposed the stranger would be far more likely to know it, but now, hearing  his mother tongue spoken out of the blue in a club filled with the Frenchmen, it felt like a secret code just for the two of them. A shiver of excitement ran down Kageyama's back.

"What a crazy coincidence that I would pick you from this crowd," he said, and was rewarded with another one of those smiles - sweet and innocent, but hiding a demon in disguise.

"Isn't it?" the red-head replied, and took another sip from his glass.

It was then that an arm was thrown around his shoulders and the brown-haired man that Tsukishima hit on was back with them. He whispered something fervently into the red-head's ear to which he laughed, the sound of trilling birds and tingling bells, and smacked the other on the shoulder.

"Fine, go," the man said, waving his hand at his friend. "Have your fun."

The other grinned widely. "I will," he took a few steps back. "Eight at the hotel?"

Then they both looked straight at Kageyama, as if on some inaudible cue. He blinked in surprise, and then narrowed his eyes, as the red-head's mouth curled up in a leer, his tongue dashing out to wet his lips.

"Make that nine," the man answered without looking away from him, a sensual glint to his eyes, promising the pleasures and secrets of the whole world, and Kageyama found himself wishing to uncover them all, layer by layer, stripping them bare and holding them in his hands until they broke apart.

They were left alone to the sound of the other's fading laughter, and for a while sat there motionless, just staring at each other. Kageyama remembered the fantasies from earlier that night, and now, with the red-head so close he could feel the heat of his body when their shoulders brushed, and the sweet, poisonous smile on that innocent face, he knew he was in too deep to back out.

The red-head broke their staring contest first, and drowning the rest of his drink stood up. A hand on Kageyama's thigh for support, so very close to touching his groin, he leaned in, and whispered in a soft, sultry voice:

"How about we go too, hmm?"

Kageyama could smell the alcohol and tobacco on the other, but the spicy scent of his cologne on the skin of his neck behind his ear that was so close to his nose now overshadowed them with a pang of heat to his gut and slight tightening of his pants. The skin under the stranger's warm hand tingled, and all Kageyama wished was for it to move _up_.

When the red-head straightened, giving him one last invitingly warm look, and slowly walked off deliberately swaying his hips, Kageyama knew it was him who was the pray this whole time.

But at this point, he hardly cared.

Forgetting his own half-finished drink, he rose to follow the other.

 

* * *

 

Kageyama comfortably stirred awake in the late morning hours, his body pleasantly sore and satiated. He shifted in bed, the covers gliding over his naked skin, cooling the warmth of sleep. Stretched and yawned and turned to the side. It was quiet and heavenly, he almost didn't remember the last time he felt that good. And then he blinked open his eyes and frowned at his empty side. He hardly expected his companion to stay, but a part of him stung with sudden hurt.

For him, last night was… magical. But not romantically magical with fluttering hearts and all that, but magical in its lascivious, sinuous taste of pleasure and the tension that vibrated in the air. Of course, the alcohol added its few cents and Kageyama admitted openly that he was heavily influenced by it, but even so, the experience was singular in its intensity and he knew he would never be able to forget it.

Everything, from the moment he set his eyes on the bubbly red-head through their brief talk at the bar to the way the other's nails dug in his shoulders as he thrust into him continuously, seemed like a dream. Like one of those dreams he used to have as a teenager, full of adventures he had no courage for in broad daylight. That was, until last night.

Through the alcohol and pleasure induced haze, Kageyama sieved the memories of their encounter and what happened after. He congratulated himself on getting the idea to come back to his room and not some shady hotel, as he slipped off the bed and stalked to the bathroom to turn on the shower. The mess on the floor and his lazy, yet helpful in embarrassing him, mind supplied the required memories.

They'd done it there, too.

And in bed.

And on the floor before they could get to said bed.

He would have burned in shame then and there, if he wasn't so surprised with himself. It usually took him only one time to get completely satiated, but that night… It seemed like no amount of the red-head's body could quench his thirst, and Kageyama wondered: was it him, the alcohol, or was this the influence of the short red-head who tempted him, over and over again, with pouty lips and slim yet strong hips?

He shook his head to clear it of pictures of the man half-bent, half-propped on the wall near the door, and looking up at him with raw hunger and so much pleasure, Kageyama expected part of it to be a reflection of his own. He stepped over the bottles and towels discarded on the bathroom floor, and under the warm stream of shower water. Washing away the sweat, and foaming the shampoo, he smelled the last remnants of the red-haired man flow down his body.

He was fairly sure he would never be able to forget this encounter. A part of him felt guilty for not even asking the man's name, but then again it wasn't like they would ever meet again, so the logical side of him quickly squashed his sentiments. It was fun while it lasted - more like once in a lifetime experience, - and now he had to move on.

Kageyama dried up his body with a towel he scooped from the floor. He quickly dressed, hearing his stomach growl for the second time, grabbed his wallet and was about to leave, when his eye strayed, caught by something that was most definitely not there when he left yesterday evening.

Therewas a scrap of paper, a torn in half piece of hotel stationery on the nightstand near his bed, with hastily scribbled message in a squiggly but somehow neat letters across it.

 

_give me a call when you're back in Japan, I wouldn't mind another round… or two_

 

Underneath was a number, and although the note was not signed, Kageyama knew there was only one person who could leave it. His first impulse was to crush the paper and throw it out, the faster the better so as not to give in to temptation, but after staring at it for a while, he sighed and shook his head at himself.

He slept with a guy he picked - or was picked, but that hardly mattered at this point - at a bar, a fan of his team at that, and didn't even ask his name. Forget the name, he didn't know his address, what he did for a living, if he had any family, where he was from - nothing. The only thing he knew about this phantom lover of his was the face, imbedded in his mind in vivid clarity, as the man wreathed under him in throes of passion, lips wet and torn apart in a silent scream of ecstasy, with red cheeks and gleaming amber eyes, red hair tangled and messy…

And now he also had his number.

Kageyama tucked the crumpled piece of paper safely into a side pocket of his wallet, knowing by the quickened flow of blood in his veins and the hastened heartbeat that hammered in his chest - he might use it sooner than expected.

**Author's Note:**

> this au is crazy bc I spent too much time thinking of it and then ended up with a bunch of useless hc that could never fit in this fic and oh well, have a dump of those:
> 
> \- tsukki and guchi dated long before this event and the whole thing was a rouse to get hinata and kageyama together  
> \- hinata and guchi are best friends and roommates so ofc hina knows his bestie's bf and there's a strange kind of friendship going on between the two, like 'do you have the goods?' 'ye, but the info comes first', 'fine, we're flying to france for a three-week sparring match' - is the story of how hina booked the tickets cheaply on the right dates and tsukki got a whole album full of guchi's baby pictures  
> \- hina had a huuuuuge crush on yamyams in high school, and it was so annoying and actually he never got cured of it, so when guchi saw the chance - his bf I mean *coughs coughs* - he took it and they devised the plan to catch mr star setter unawares  
> \- hina had to practice his 'sexy' moves on someone and that poor soul happened to be tsukki bc his character is sooooomewhat similar to yams' - not really but they couldn't just kidnap the poor guy could they - and it was the most awkward for them both but guchi kept cheering them on and somehow they survived (lots of smooches might have been involved later to appease the bf, poor hina had to deal with it alone *sucks to be u*)  
> \- taking off hina's jeans wasn't as pleasant as yams hoped and they got stuck and tangled and finally they had to cut him out and it was the most hilarious thing ever and yams might have resigned halfway through, if not for hina's ass that he groped from time to time to hold onto his sanity
> 
> so ye, that's the au, idek don't ask me about it, I think about aus too much okay  
> also, blame all of this on feesh bc she infected me with bestbudtsukki virus and my antibodies failed...


End file.
